


Of All The Condos in All New York, You Deliver Pizza To Mine

by confidentduck



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Cute, Fluff, Humor, M/M, flustered Tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 06:57:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7158416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confidentduck/pseuds/confidentduck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So wait, let me get this right: Tony Stark, whose dating approach in college was ‘heart of stone but ready to bone’, has gone and fallen in love with the pizza delivery guy?” Clint says, unable to stop grinning. “Oh my god, this is too funny. We have to call him back.”</p>
<p>In which Tony blows half his inheritance on pizza, Natasha simultaneously doesn't care and cares far too much about Tony getting laid, and Bucky wants no part in any of this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of All The Condos in All New York, You Deliver Pizza To Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there!
> 
> So this is my first ever work on this site, inspired by a prompt I saw somewhere on Tumblr based on that Friends episode 'The One Where Ross Can't Flirt'. It looked way too cute to not write, so I wrote it (as I have basically no self restraint). It's been a while (two years? three?) since I last wrote fanfiction, but I loved writing this, and am really looking forward to getting back into it all!

“The new delivery boy’s pretty cute,” Natasha casually mentions as she re-enters from the hall carrying five boxes of pizza in her arms, managing to both open and shut the door behind her with her left foot. “Totally your type, Stark.”

Tony’s head flops backwards on his armchair so he can see Natasha upside down. “Oh?”

“Tall, blonde, cute grin, Yankees cap,” Natasha replies. “Called me ma’am, which was sweet. Wanda, the spinach?”

“Yes, that’s mine,” Wanda says, holding out her hands to take the box. “Thank you.”

“No bother. Vision, did you order anything?”

“No, but Miss Maximoff has given me permission to take a slice of her pizza, should I feel compelled to eat with you all,” Vision says politely. “For social reasons, of course.”

“Wait, I feel we just moved in a completely different direction to the one I wanted us to go in,” Tony interrupts. “Nat, did you get the pizza guy’s number?”

“No, because he wasn’t _my_ type, he was yours,” Natasha says. “Listen to me sometimes, Stark. Clint, the four seasons?”

“Throw it over!” Clint calls from where he has chosen to perch for the night, at the top of Tony’s bookshelf.

“Yeah, but you could’ve asked him for it on my behalf,” Tony huffs. “Like a good friend.”

“We’re not good friends, Tony, we’ve never slept together,” Natasha quips, and Sam almost spits out his Sprite. He sits choking for a minute as Natasha pops a pizza box onto his lap and pats his back.

“Here, take your pizza and stop whinging about Blondie,” she says to Tony, tossing a box his way.

“Pepperoni?”

“Duh.”

“So when you say tall, how tall?”

Clint hops down from the bookshelf. “Jeez Stark, if you’re so desperate to bang the guy, why don’t we just phone him back?”

Vision frowns. “We do not have the man’s personal phone number, as Miss Romanoff just explained.”

Clint rolls his eyes. “We’re not phoning _him_. We’ll phone the pizza place. Ask for one more pizza, say someone forgot to order, and he’ll be back in half an hour.”

“We can’t do that,” Wanda protests. “We wouldn’t eat the pizza, it would just be a waste of-”

“Hey Banner, long time no see! How is my favourite real-life movie nerd?” Tony says cheerily, holding out a Stark phone up to his ear, and then changing his mind and switching it to loudspeaker.

“What do you want, Tony?” Bruce says wearily from the other side of the line. “Sorry, that’s rude. What can I help you with this fine evening?”

“So glad you asked that. I’m desperately trying to get into the new delivery boy’s pants but he’s gone back to Neverland and we already have all the pizzas we need. Would you happen to be interested in a free Hawaiian with added broccoli?”

A sigh can be heard from the phone. “Fine. But you’ll need to order for Thor too; since Jane left for that conference in Delhi he’s been following me around like a lost puppy. Thor, what kind of pizza do you want?”

There’s a pause.

“He says he’s in the mood for wild boar, so I’d go with a Supreme. We’ll be over in ten.”

* * *

 

Tony just happens to be standing in the hallway when the doorbell next rings. Okay, so maybe it’s not a coincidence. But hey, he’s allowed to be excited. It’s been a while since he last got laid and he might possibly have a thing for pizza boys.

“Wish me luck!” he calls into the living room.

“Hope he’s blind!” Clint calls back.

Tony chuckles and pulls open the front door with one big sweep.

“Hi, I’ve got a Hawaiian with extra mushroom and a large Supreme here, is that right?”

So, Tony knows that when people’s voices go up at the end of sentences, that usually indicates a question, but the problem is that in order to answer that question he’d have to form words, and he’s just not sure he knows any right now. Tony’s brain is slightly too preoccupied processing wide blue eyes and cold pink cheeks and the prettiest grin he’s ever seen to recall things as mundane as the English language.

“Sir?” the guy asks, and _ohmygodmenlikethatshouldnotbeallowedtosaysir,_ “I’m sorry, are you alright?”

“Huh?” Tony says intelligently. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Absolutely fine. A-okay. Yes.”

“Oh. Good, I’m glad. Uh, that’ll be 20 dollars and 90 cents then, please,” the delivery guy says in this adorably nervous tone, flashing Tony that smile again and Tony nods dumbfounded and pulls out his wallet. He hands the guy a fifty and tells him to keep the change, and his face lights up in a way that makes Tony want to just hand him the contents of the entire wallet and be done with it.

“Thank you so much sir,” the boy gushes, beaming down at Tony. “I- uh- I hope you enjoy your pizza!”

And with that, he gets back on his motorcycle, gives a little wave, and drives off, leaving Tony to wonder what the fuck just happened.

“Tony! Where are these damn pizzas?” he hears Sam yell from the living room and so he trails back in.

“How’d it go?” Natasha asks, taking the boxes off him and bringing them over to Thor and Bruce. “He’s super cute, isn’t he?”

“Are you now in possession of his personal phone number?” Vision asks politely, and Wanda rolls her eyes fondly, hands him a slice of pizza and tells him to shush.

Tony doesn't say anything. He's trying to commit the man’s face to memory but it's proving unusually difficult for a genius.

“Tony?” Bruce asks. “You okay?”

“No, yes, I’m fine,” Tony says uncertainly.

Bruce frowns. “Did you get his number?”

“Uh, no, I did not.”

“Well, did the young man share with you his first name, perchance?” Thor enquires as he picks up three slices of pizza in one go and attempts to eat them together.

“No, n-no, he didn’t.”

“What?” Clint says, baffled. “So what _did_ you ask him?”

“I… can’t really remember,” Tony confesses, still a little dazed, and the room falls silent.

“Oh my god,” Natasha breathes. “We need to get him back.”

Wanda lets out a small noise of protest. “We can’t ask him back again! He’ll think we are going to kidnap him. It’s too strange.”

“No, but don’t you see?” Natasha says urgently. “He’s Tony’s Juliet.”

“Juliet? Do I know this girl?” Thor booms, unhappy with being left out of a conversation.

“Midgardian literature, I’ll explain it to you later,” Bruce says dismissively.

“So wait, let me get this right: Tony Stark, whose dating approach in college was ‘heart of stone but ready to bone’, has gone and fallen in love with the _pizza delivery guy?_ ” Clint says, unable to stop grinning. “Oh my god, this is too funny. We have to call him back.”

“Who isn’t here already?” Natasha asks, spinning round to scan the room and do a quick head-count.

“Rhodey!” Tony cries, and he’s barely said it before Natasha’s got a phone up to her ear.

“Hello, you’ve reached James Rhodes. Who is this?” the voice on the other end says.

“It’s an emergency Rhodey. We need you over at Stark’s pad immediately. Drop everything and hurry,” Natasha says in a voice lower pitched than her usual before hanging up the phone. She turns to Tony. “He’ll be over in five minutes. Order him a Diabolo.”

Clint looks confused. “Wait, why doesn’t Rhodey have your number?”

Natasha shrugs. “I always suspect my phone has been bugged so every month I replace it. Usually I just update my contact details in all of your phones, but I must have forgotten to update Rhodey’s yesterday.”

“Wait, how did you get into my- actually, no, of course you did, what am I thinking,” Bruce says, rubbing his forehead wearily, and Natasha beams.

Tony takes his phone down from his ear. “I’ve ordered the pizza.”

“As silly as all of this is, I want to see the pizza boy when he arrives here,” Wanda says. “I will stand in the hallway.”

“I must admit, I am also intrigued. I would very much like to get a glance of the man who has, how you say, ‘stolen Mr Stark’s heart’,” Vision chipped in.

“We’re watching too,” Sam and Clint sang in unison.

Tony inhales deeply, trying to steady himself, before gathering up what's left of his pizza.

“I’m going into the kitchen to rehearse what I’m going to say this time,” Tony says to the room at large. “Follow me in and I’ll cancel the order, I swear it.”

Bruce sniggers. “Sure you will, Romeo.”

“Do I know this-”

“No, Thor, you don’t.”

 

* * *

When the doorbell goes the team jumps up from their seats quicker than Tony’s ever seen them do in response to any mission. The hallway is small, so it’s a bit of a squeeze to fit them all in and make sure everyone has a good view of the door, but they manage, with Wanda, Clint, and Natasha packing onto the stairs to make more space.

Tony tries to clear his head and collect himself, cracking his knuckles as a momentary distraction. He musters up all his courage and flings open the door to see-

A brunet.

“You’re not the blond guy,” he splutters, and the new pizza boy frowns.

“Um, no, I’m not.”

“So who are you?” Tony demands.

“I’m Bucky,” the guys says, looking justifiably confused.

“Hey Bucky, thanks for the pizza,” Rhodey says amicably, stepping in front of Tony, taking his pizza and handing the guy a few notes. “See, we’ve made two pizza orders tonight and both of them have been delivered by the same blond guy. I think my friend was just a little surprised to see someone different. Would you happen to know the man who’s been on deliveries to this house tonight?”

“Yeah, you’re looking for Steve,” Bucky nods, “but he didn’t want to come back to this house, so I said I’d go for him.”

There’s a lull in noise from the gang and suddenly Tony feels equal parts embarrassed, stupid, and overexposed. He just wants to get back into the house now, because this is too-

“Did he say why he didn't want to come back?” Bruce asks, and Bucky nods.

“Yeah, typical Steve stuff. Something about a really hot guy answering the door and so he didn’t want to come back and look awkward in front of him? Something gushy like that, I dunno. Steve says lots of dumb shit.”

If Natasha could smile any wider, she would have done. “Do you know, Bucky, I just remembered that I’m really hungry and would quite like another pizza. Is there any way I could put in an order for a Margarita?”

Bucky still looks a bit bemused, but he makes a note of it.

“Would you like a Coke with it?” he asks.

“Not necessary,” Natasha smiles, “but we _would_ like a Steve with it.”

“Huh?” Bucky says.

“We’re sure you’re a great pizza guy and everything, but you need to make sure Steve delivers this pizza, and no-one else, okay?” Clint says.

“Okay,” Bucky says, and notes that down too. “I’ll get right on it. Is that everything?”

“That is all we require from you. Thank you, my friend,” Thor says, beaming, and Bucky sends a quick salute his way before heading back to his trusty motorcycle as Tony closes the door behind him.

There is a moment of silence.

But only a moment.

“Nicely done, Tony!”

“Get in there, son!”

“How strange was that?”

“He thinks you’re hot?!?”

“You’re a lucky bastard, Stark.”

“Everyone get into the living room,” Tony orders, and there’s a surge of protests and complaints. “No, I insist. He’s _my_ pizza boy, you lot need to back off.”

Sam wolf-whistles, but the gang obliges. Rhodey pats him on the shoulder before he heads back, and when they’re all safely behind the hallway door Tony takes a seat on the bottom step of the stairs to wait for the last pizza.

 

* * *

The doorbell goes.

Tony swallows the urge to vomit, and opens the front door and steps out onto his front porch, closing the door behind him to find himself mere inches from the delivery boy. This time, it's the right one. The man standing in front of him is so built Tony is impressed there are shirts out there that fit over his biceps. His hair is golden, and it sticks out from underneath his Yankees cap like he’s just not aware of what gel is. He’s smiling, but it’s this bashful, awkward little thing, and it’s wrecking Tony’s heart right now.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” Tony replies.

“So, I’m Steve,” the guy says softly, and the way his eyes are raking over Tony’s body is doing something to Tony’s stomach.

“Hi Steve,” Tony replies just as quietly. “I’m Tony.”

“I’ve got a Margarita pizza here, but something tells me it's not important.”

Tony hums and raises his eyebrows.

“Bucky told me you’d asked about me not delivering the last order,” Steve says. “Sorry about that.”

“I was slightly offended, but I’ve a pretty good idea of how you could make it up to me,” Tony tries, and inwardly cringes as soon as the words have left his mouth. _Too forward, Stark, way too forw-_

“Oh?” Steve murmurs in a tone that definitely doesn’t sound like he feels Tony’s being too forward, as he steps in closer to the man and tilts his head slightly to the right. “How?”

“Put down the pizza,” Tony whispers shakily and Steve obliges, dropping part of it into a small puddle on the porch but not really seeming to care.

“Now kiss me,” Tony breathes, and he’s barely closed his lips again before Steve’s own lips are on them, as he cups Tony’s face in his cold hands and licks his way into his mouth. Tony kisses back, arching his body into Steve’s like a cat, so completely delighted with this mad turn of events that his hands just instinctively drop to squeeze Steve’s pert little ass, before realising that’s maybe a little too much.

“Shit, sorry, I’m perving on you,” he gasps mid-kiss, pulling his hands back to his shoulders.

Steve breaks the kiss off and lets go of Tony’s face, but only for as long as it takes him to move Tony’s hands back down to his ass, growl, “Keep them there,” and reattach his lips to Tony’s again.

Tony is certainly not complaining.

 

* * *

When Tony finally hands Natasha over her pizza it is cold, soggy, and part of the box’s corner has fallen off. He says he’s sorry about it, but the dumb grin plastered to his face says otherwise.

Natasha chuckles, takes the box, and throws it straight in the bin.

(Wanda visibly winces.)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I did it, I posted a thing!! And it wasn't terrifying at all *wipes sweat off brow*. Please comment if you liked it, and if you've any critiques or corrections, let me know.
> 
> Kisses, Ceci


End file.
